<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>goblin (in mirror) by SheOfBadIdeas</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547834">goblin (in mirror)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheOfBadIdeas/pseuds/SheOfBadIdeas'>SheOfBadIdeas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:00:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheOfBadIdeas/pseuds/SheOfBadIdeas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Riz, the Bad Kids, and all the motions of ordinary love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth (Background), Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fig</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a thrumming bassline, so thick and loud that it reverberates through the floor and shakes Riz’s bones. He watches the stage from the back of the venue, seated at a bar that he is far too young to drink from. Instead, Riz nurses a club soda as he watches his friend play her heart out onstage.</p><p>He listens to her belt the lyrics to <em>Burn Towns, Get Money</em>, and while it isn’t really his style of music, he can’t help the overwhelming sense of pride that unfurls in his chest as he hears her play. She’s got a white-knuckle grip on her bass guitar—the same bass that has saved Riz’s ass in too many battles to count—and there is sweat plastering her dyed-purple bangs to her forehead.</p><p>She looks so happy that Riz is breathless, for a moment. <em>She deserves to be that happy</em> <em>all the time</em>, he thinks. Now that she’s got Ayda, Riz thinks she might be.</p><p>The thought makes him feel warm at first, before he feels something horrible and acrid blossom inside of him: Fig has adoring fans, now. Fig has an agent. Fig is big and important and wealthy. She’s a different person than she was freshman year—she has her dads, her mom, Ayda; she’s coming into herself in a way that Riz just. Isn’t.</p><p>He tries not to resent her for it, but he can’t quite manage to shake the way his gut feels heavy, can’t ignore the gnawing fear that she may outgrow him. The terrifying thought that he’s falling behind, that all of his friends are going to—</p><p>As soon as the worry begins to take shape in his mind, Riz hears Fig yell, “thank you Dune Fort! You’ve been a fantastic crowd,” and he knows that her set is over. After exiting the stage, Fig doesn’t waste a second running up to him. Her enthusiasm is breathtaking as she grabs his arm, pulls him into a hug, kisses his cheek. It’s like there’s so much affection and excitement inside of her that she can’t settle on a single way to express it, and so she chooses to express it in every way.</p><p>“Hey,” she breathes, and her smile is so infectious that Riz momentarily forgets the ugly feelings deep within himself, “thanks for coming.”</p><p>“Of course,” Riz smiles, and it comes easier than he thought it would, “wouldn’t miss it for all the gold in Spyre.”</p><p>“Hey,” Fig says again, and she looks serious this time. “I know I can be hard to read sometimes, and I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve—”</p><p>Riz is about to interrupt her, but she puts a finger to his lips and continues on.</p><p>“But I just want you to know, Riz, that you and the Bad Kids are the best friends I’ve ever had, and I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came to see me play tonight.”</p><p>Riz almost chokes on his tongue, he feels so much love for this girl. For all of his friends. If anyone happened to roll an insight check on him at that moment, surely they would see how vulnerable he was, all because he cared too deeply about the Bad Kids.</p><p>“Anyway, I completely rocked the shit out of that show and now I’m starving,” Fig says, linking her arm with Riz’s, “so let’s go to Basrar’s.”</p><p>And as he and Fig eat sundaes and shoot the shit, talking about everything and nothing in a little ice cream shop in Elmville, Riz can’t remember why he was upset in the first place.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Adaine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s during one of their traditional sleepovers, when they’re lying face-to-face on one of Adaine’s lacy pink pillowcases, that she says it.</p><p>“I think I’m asexual.” It comes out quietly, tacked onto the back-end of some bit of gossip about so-and-so dating such-and-such, and it comes so far out of left field that the laughter in the air evaporates. Adaine is worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, looking small in a way that Riz has never really seen her.</p><p>Riz is silent for a moment. Then, “huh.”</p><p>“You’re not surprised,” Adaine says. It’s not a question; she is, after all, the Elven Oracle. All of the worry in her eyes is replaced with intrigue, and she cocks her head as though to get a better look at Riz and his reactions.</p><p>“No,” Riz says softly, because he isn’t. He reaches a hand across the bedspread so he can lace his fingers together with hers. He doesn’t squeeze her hand, doesn’t want to put any pressure on what feels like a fragile moment. “I’m not. But thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”</p><p>“Of course, idiot,” Adaine scoffs, but she smiles and folds her fingers into Riz’s. “I trust you with my life. Regularly.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Riz whispers, and he hopes he conveys just how much he means it. “I trust you, too.”</p><p>Their eyes lock for a moment, and Riz thinks about everything he’s been through with her. They share a bittersweet smile, before Adaine changes the topic.</p><p>“I don’t really look forward to telling the rest of the Bad Kids, though,” Adaine says, attempting to force the heaviness in the air to dissipate. Her brow creases in thought. “Or Jawbone. Not that he won’t be supportive, obviously, but he’ll probably force me to read literature on the subject, and—”</p><p>Riz tunes her out and instead thinks about the fact that that crease will never wrinkle. He feels a familiar pang of sorrow as he thinks about Adaine’s endless life, moving forward without him in it. Suddenly, insanely, there are hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He uses his free hand to scrub at them, embarrassed by his own reaction.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Adaine asks, squeezing Riz’s hand reassuringly.</p><p>“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” Riz says. He lets out a shuddering breath. He feels weak and silly; he should be above these kinds of emotional somersaults by now. He’s sixteen, for Cassandra’s sake.</p><p>“No, tell me,” Adaine insists, and her blue, blue eyes stare unblinkingly into Riz’s. “Please,” she adds softly, eyebrows crumpling in obvious concern. “I want to help.”</p><p>“Okay,” Riz sighs, eyes darting downward to examine a loose thread on Adaine’s jacket. “I guess I’m worried that one day, you’re all going to realize you’ve got better things to do than hang around with me. Especially you, since, y’know, you’re immortal and stuff.” He can hear himself muttering the last sentence and wants to kick himself for how petulant and childish it sounds.</p><p>Adaine is quiet for a long moment, before finally speaking.</p><p>“You know, I used to be miserable because I thought the family I grew up with would live to torment me forever,” she starts, and now she isn’t meeting Riz’s eyes either. “It felt like I was doomed to live a very long, sad life, and it was my fault for not being good enough.</p><p>“But now I have a new family, a family that loves me, and it’s almost worse because they’ll die way before I do. Part of me wonders if I’m still going to live a very sad and lonely life, and if it’s <em>still</em> my fault for choosing a family of mortals.</p><p>“I guess what I’m saying is, I <em>know</em> I only have a limited time with you, Riz, and if you think I’m going to give a second of that time up for any reason, then you are, actually, a moron.” Adaine meets his eyes again, determination evident in the hard set of her brow. As though she could vanish his insecurities through sheer force of will alone.</p><p>“Okay,” Riz says, and finds himself actually believing her, “okay.”</p><p>“Marvelous,” Adaine replies, “now if you don’t mind, I went through a lot of mental energy coming out to you tonight, and I feel like I am owed payment in the form of juicy romance gossip.”</p><p>Unbidden, Riz thinks of a letter jacket, of firm, toned muscles, of a booming laugh and endless charisma. He swallows against a suddenly-dry throat. No, he’s definitely not ready to talk about that.</p><p>Instead, he asks, “did you hear what happened with Skrank?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i have written so much d20 fic today. in the words of brennan lee mulligan, "wild."</p><p>rubyofhouserocks.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gorgug</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Riz is sitting high above the ground, legs folded underneath himself on the bleachers that overlook the bloodrush field. He’s trying and failing to focus on his Stealth and Sleight of Hand homework as grunting, panting students tackle each other in his peripheral vision.</p><p>Normally, Riz would choose a more serene locale to accomplish the task at hand, but today he’s waiting for Gorgug to finish up practice so they can study together. It’s been a Thursday tradition for a while now, ever since Gorgug approached him bashfully a couple of months ago and admitted that he needed the motivation of another person’s productivity to focus on his own schoolwork. Riz felt weird about it at first, excluding the other Bad Kids from their little study group, but Gorgug had explained his worry that the “vibe” would shift to one of companionship instead of one focused on academic pursuits (“Why not ask Adaine to join, then?” Riz had asked. “She takes her studies very seriously.”</p><p>“I know,” Gorgug said, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he scratched his cheek. “It’s just. Well. She makes these noises, y’know, when she gets frustrated by her reading? Like—”</p><p>“Like Sandra-Lynn’s griffin got caught in an arcanoblender.”</p><p>“Yeah.”).</p><p>And, well, Riz would be lying if he said something warm and pleasant didn’t glow in his chest at the thought that there were friendship duties that only he could fulfill. He’s trying hard, these days, not to fixate on the insecurities that creep into his consciousness when he’s alone inside of his mind, but sometimes it takes more than words of reassurance from his friend to keep the anxious beast within him at bay. He’s a creature of data, not emotion, and having evidence of his own utility goes a long way toward making him feel at ease with his place in the Bad Kids.</p><p>What’s more, the weekly study has been good for Riz’s grades, as well. It’s why he usually tries to finish most of his homework ahead of time, so he can devote the study session to actually reviewing the material, rather than churning out busy work. Unfortunately, his brain isn’t exactly cooperating at the moment; his attention keeps getting snagged by the action taking place some 300 feet away from him.</p><p>“Ha <em>ha</em>,” Fabian bellows as he dodges out of reach of multiple players on the defensive line, bragging in that strange tone of his that blends propriety with boisterousness as he deftly maneuverers down the field. His tank top is entirely soaked through with sweat, clinging to his body like a disgusting second skin. As Fabian makes his way into the end zone and gently lays the ball at his own feet, he lifts that drenched shirt to wipe at the sweat on his forehead, exposing the toned muscles of his stomach and—</p><p><em>Distraction, thy name is Seacaster</em>, some deep corner of Riz’s mind whispers, and he bats at the air in front of his face as if to banish the thought. It’s not just Fabian who’s preventing him from focusing, but the general atmosphere of loudness. Obviously. It has nothing to do with the three touchdowns that Fabian has scored, or the way his legs seem to glide over the field, or oh my god Riz is doing it again.</p><p>Thankfully, Riz doesn’t need to suffer through the definitely-not-specific distraction for much longer, because practice ends and Gorgug runs up to him within five minutes. He reeks of sweat, the exertion of having played the sport for the past two hours evident. His skin has a pleased glow to it and he’s smiling broadly.</p><p>“Did you see that play I just pulled off?” he asks. “Ragh was all like <em>grrr</em>, but I was all like <em>psheww</em> and I managed to…” Gorgug is gesturing wildly, but he cuts off at Riz’s apparent lack of recognition. “Oh, did you not see it?”</p><p>“No, I must have missed it while I was doing my homework,” Riz lies, his face heating.</p><p>“But I looked up and you seemed like you were watching, and you were making this face like—oh,” Gorgug says, and Riz can almost watch the cogs at work in his mind as he pieces together the information in front of him. Gorgug may not be the smartest member of the group, not in the classical sense, but Riz knows him well enough to know that Gorgug has moments of emotional wisdom beyond his years. Whether it was his parenting, or just something intrinsically <em>Gorgug</em>, Riz couldn’t be sure. “Oh, you weren’t watching <em>me</em>. You were…”</p><p>Riz appreciates that he has the sense of decorum not to finish that sentence. Still, he doesn’t see any point in denying it. He nods, “yeah.”</p><p>“That’s—I mean, that’s cool,” Gorgug says, and Riz knows he isn’t stuttering because he feels awkward about what Riz has confirmed for him, but because Gorgug desperately doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. “I mean, it’s totally cool that you—yeah.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Riz says, but weirdly, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he thought he would. He feels…at peace about the whole thing, oddly enough.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p>“I…kinda do, yeah,” Riz finds himself saying, surprising even himself. He isn’t sure when he started trusting the other members of his party so unconditionally, but he knows that Gorgug isn’t going to judge him for anything he says. And he knows that Gorgug won’t gossip about it, either (at least, he won’t gossip about it <em>well</em>).</p><p>“Hey, man, that’s fine. Studying can wait,” Gorgug says, and he sits down next to Riz and listens.</p><p>Riz talks until the sky starts growing dark around them, unleashing everything that he’s been bottling up for so long in one angsty, ranting burst, and Gorgug doesn’t interrupt him once. He just sits quietly and lets Riz speak, even though it’s getting late and Riz knows that Gorgug has a quiz on Monday that he really needs to study for. He takes a moment to appreciate that Gorgug is sacrificing his schoolwork for him, just because Riz asked him to, and he feels something small and hopeful bubble up in his chest at the thought.</p><p>By the time he’s finished pouring his heart out about his silly, unrequited crush on Fabian, he feels…better, strangely. For the first time in a while, Riz feels secure in his friendship with the other Bad Kids, because he realizes that they have his back in more contexts than just the battlefield. He feels lighter, too, now that he isn’t the only one who has to hold onto this secret; his friends are willing to share that burden with him, and that’s. That’s pretty neat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello everyone! this will eventually be a fabriz story, but i also just wanted to explore some dynamics between riz and the other bad kids.</p><p>title/summary are both a reference to La Dispute's "woman (in mirror)," which is a fantastic song, and also kind of a cheeky play on the fact that Riz had a whole mirror arc.</p><p>my tumblr is rubyofhouserocks.tumblr.com &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>